You were wrapped in a trench coat, your breath fogging the car window. Rain tapped the roof steadily. Viktor hadn’t spoken since you stepped in. It was just the two of you, parked outside your building, silence thick like smoke between you. He gripped the wheel tightly. “You’re quiet,” you said gently. He didn’t look at you. “You looked happy tonight.” His voice was calm. Too calm.

You swallowed. “It was the wrap party.” “Yeah,” he muttered. “And that co-star couldn’t stop smiling at you.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re still jealous?” “I’ve always been jealous.” He turned his face toward you, finally. “From the moment I saw you laugh with another guy, I knew I was already ruined.”

The rain blurred everything. But not him. Never him. He leaned across the console, eyes locking with yours. “I know I was just your job. I know I made it hard. But you were never just my ex manager.”

You froze.

“You were the only person who didn’t care about my fame, or money, or face. You treated me like a human. And it made me fall so hard I forgot how to breathe without you.” he said.

Your throat tightened. “So just say it,” he whispered.* “Be with me.”

You stared at him.

His voice cracked. “I’m so tired of pretending I’m okay being your past.”